Have you ever felt
As if you are standing
In your own space
With your hands open
And every person you encounter
Tattoos you,
Writes on you
With permanent ink
Before moving on?
The marks glow
With a stained-glass-like luster;
They form an intricately
Beautiful pattern
Made out of memories
And accidental encounters.
Some run very deep;
Others just scratch the surface;
Nevertheless each one
Does stay
In its own way
However, faint it might be.
Would you want to look at yourself?
Can you see yourself beneath these marks?
In the looking glass,
There’s a kaleidoscope of reflections
Looking back at me
A live screen
On which countless stories appear.
But beneath all these;
I feel a heartbeat pounding constantly,
A central self-crying out
For recognition…
I feel as if I am losing myself
Within these entwining paths
A life’s true maze.
Which scars deserve
Our appreciation
And which ones should be forgotten?
It could be that this decision
Symbolizes the very essence
Of the soul.
Just
Wandering.
The Living Canvas
This poem’s really onto something. It’s like we’re all walking art galleries, aren’t we? Every person we meet, every experience we have, they’re all leaving their mark on us. It’s beautiful and a little scary at the same time.
Think about those tattoos from every encounter. It’s not just small talk and handshakes – it’s like what the philosopher Emmanuel Levinas talked about. He said that facing another person is an ethical event. Every interaction, no matter how brief, changes us a little. It’s like we’re all artists, painting on each other’s souls.
And those glowing marks forming patterns? That’s not just pretty imagery. It’s like what Carl Jung called the collective unconscious. We’re not just isolated individuals – we’re part of this big, interconnected web of human experience. Each mark connects us to the whole tapestry of humanity.
Now, that question about seeing yourself beneath the marks – that’s hitting on something deep. It’s like the ship of Theseus paradox. If all our parts keep changing, are we still the same person? The philosopher Derek Parfit grappled with this. Maybe our identity isn’t fixed, but a constantly evolving story.
That kaleidoscope of reflections? It’s not just confusing – it’s liberating! It’s like what Walt Whitman meant when he said, “I contain multitudes.” We’re not just one thing, we’re a whole universe of possibilities.
But that heartbeat beneath it all, that central self crying out – that’s real too. It’s like what the existentialists were all about. Beneath all our roles and masks, there’s an authentic self trying to emerge. The trick is learning to hear it over all the noise.
So what do we do with all this? Well, maybe it’s about embracing our nature as living canvases. Each scar, each mark is part of our story. Some we’ll cherish, some we might wish we could erase. But they’re all part of what makes us uniquely us.
Remember, you’re not just the canvas – you’re the artist too. You get to choose which marks to highlight, which stories to tell. It’s like what the philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre said – we’re condemned to be free. We’re always choosing, always creating ourselves.
Go ahead, wander through this maze of life. Let yourself be touched, changed, marked by the world around you. But don’t forget to leave your own marks too. After all, as the poet Mary Oliver asked, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” Your canvas is waiting. What will you create?